


Sense

by micehell



Category: Velvet Goldmine
Genre: Angst, Drama, Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-22
Updated: 2005-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 00:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/484503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/micehell/pseuds/micehell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On an alien shore</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sense

**Author's Note:**

> There's no explicit pairing, but there is one implied (feel free to guess ;).

He was floating in the sea, the water warm, enveloping. Intimate. A million fluid drops caressing his skin.

He could hear a babble of voices, gulls swooping and diving in, but he ignored them, letting the warmth drag him down into the sea's embrace.

_The lights were shining on him, slicking his skin with sweat. He could feel drops of it gliding down his face, dragging tracks of eyeliner with it. Some trailed down his back, down his ass, tickling over peaks, valleys; too much and too little sensation._

_He could feel a drop trailing down his chest, pooling on the tip of a nipple, as he added oil to the mix. Glitter. His hands rubbing, pinching, mixing the unmixable as the electricity from the guitar, from the crowd, from his head burned in his veins._

_And the light was shining on him, chasing his shadows across the stage. Hot on his face, his body, as the audience screamed. Hating him, loving him, as he turned himself inside out for them, for him, drops of sweat, oil, blood arcing out, prisming in the light as he cast himself into the sea of bodies below._

The rocks of the shore were hard and cold as the sea tossed him out of its heated embrace. He shivered on the alien shore as the gulls circled closer, voices loud, cawing as they morphed into Corvus, come to eat his flesh renewed.

He pulled against the cold chains -- "Hold him!" "I'm trying!"-- wanting the fire back, the warmth. But there was only the rocks, the cold.

_Night was falling, a heavy weight. Cold tendrils of air wrapped around him, eeling through his coat, through his skin._

_The streets were cold. The stares of strangers. His own heart as he wandered, looking for a light to warm him._

_The car swam along the street, parting the darkness like a curtain, the opening act._

_When the curtain fell, it would be dark again. Cold again, even as the weight of night was lightening, the false dawn bleeding in._

The rocks and sand were entombing him, pressing all along his body. Feeling every inch, pushing in, pressing in, pressing out his breath.

The caws of the birds were fading as the pressure in his ears, his chest, increased -- "He's coding!" "Damn it! 200."-- burying him in his own weight.

_Laughter. Deep voice, light tone. The sound so beautiful that he couldn't help but laugh in return._

_"The body has something like 20 types of nerve endings in it."_

_"And you know this why?"_

_"Because I went to school.... I'm sorry. You know I didn't mean anything by that."_

_The barb, unintentional, pushed in. The hand stroking across his chest brushed aside its weight._

_"I sometimes wonder how I make my living writing when I say the wrongest things."_

_"It's called a backspace key." He pointed to a nipple, already hard and aching. "It's here."_

_The laughter again, its rumble vibrating along the hand typing on his chest. "But the most common type of nerve endings are for feeling heat, cold, pressure, and pain."_

_"I'm sure there's a point to this somewhere."_

_Another laugh, lower, a purr sounding through it. "The areas with the most nerve endings are the most sensitive."_

_The body straddling his leaned backwards, weight resettling in interesting ways. Hands skimmed along legs, ankles, pressing into the arch of feet. "Here."_

_Moving up, touch fading, deepening, finding his hands, his fingertips. Light caress, hard stroke, both sending shivers along awakened nerves. "Here."_

_Hands on his neck, power and control, across his face, love and reverence. "Here."_

_A tongue traced lips, lightly outlining them, flicking the bow, pressing into the dip below, into his mouth._

_Gentle play of tongue, then demanding, pushing, pressing, oral frottage. A muffled "Here" that vibrated along every nerve ending, never ending, until the world ended in panting breaths and laughter._

"I've got a rhythm."

Sea, sand, rock and gulls dissolved, resolved into white. Beds, coats, walls, and pain that sparked through him in a familiar way.

"Fucking A. I thought we were going to lose him that time."

He was hot, a trace of electric heat running through him. He was cold, limbs sluggish from shock, from lack of circulation. The weight on his chest was enormous, feeding the pain that circled around him.

He felt the tugs as restraints were removed, the weight and warmth as a blanket was tucked in close around him.

"Keep a close eye on him. We don't want any surprises. If he holds stable, then we'll move him up to a room."

The feeling faded as night came once again.

_He dreamed of dreaming... of being on fire, on a stage... of seeing cold streets, like a million others, but none he'd ever seen... of a stranger, close enough to hurt him, warm enough to regret it._

Strange and familiar, visions and memory. Dreams and dreams, even the pain something to be desired.

The face was known. They'd both been here before.

Hands warm on him, checking, voice gentle but resigned. They'd been here before.

"You're going to die if you keep this up. Your body can't handle the strain the heroin is putting on it. But you can get over the addiction. I can get you in a program that would help."

Rote speech, expecting a rote answer. They'd been here before.

"Get me in your program. I want to get my act together."

Familiar and strange; dreams and dreams. Something to be desired.

/story  



End file.
